PREVIOUS HERE FIRST: A favour. Those with facebook, like this for my dad please? It’s for work: www dot facebook dot com/ pages/ Wendells-Holborn /100143900085735 ?sk =wall no spaces. Thanks.
Such a shit couple of weeks, and I’m really tired and crappy and cold. Seriously, summer, you can’t come round fast enough.
It’s a little short, but at least I’ve planned the next couple chapters out. RL ran away with my beta once I finally managed to get this chapter ready, and then once SHE had it ready… RL ran away with me!! Thank you to Star_Faerie for beta’ing for me!
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Words: 3,547
Chapter 5
August 1st 1988.
It was, technically speaking, Tarrant’s eighth birthday. But, because he and Harry were twins, their party had been the night before, lasting well after their usual bedtime of nine until even the adults were half-asleep on their feet. Some families had chosen to stay the night, accepting the generously offered guest rooms with tired, happy smiles, and then departed after breakfast that morning. But the Malfoys were still in residence at Potter Manor. Narcissa and Lily conversed quietly, sitting side by side on a garden bench. Lucius and James watched them from the study window, before simultaneously turning to glimpse two of the three boys who were playing in the garden. Tarrant was standing alone, his hands over his eyes as he counted down from ten, giving Harry and Draco the chance to hide.
Draco had slept with Harry that night, and it hadn’t escaped any of the adults’ notice. Nor had it passed by Tarrant unnoticed either. Draco had decided as the official best friend that only he could share a room with Harry, other than Tarrant of course, but Lily was firmly in the habit now of separating the twins at night. Harry was no longer allowed to lie with his brother until the younger fell asleep before moving to his room: he went straight to his room at bed time now, had done for a year now and Tarrant was ok with it because he hadn’t known any differently being the fall asleep first in the end. Except Tarrant missed having someone breathing beside of him until he drifted off and, more often than not, he found himself sneaking into his godfather’s room.
Peter had long since gone back to work as a photographer for the Daily-Prophet. He had even moved back into his own house after a year of freeloading off of the Potters. He had said he was too afraid to be alone after what Lord Voldemort did to him, but secretly, he wanted to be close to the Dark Lord’s mate while he was young and impressionable. So despite moving out, he did his best to spend as much time with Tarrant as possible, but not with Harry. In fact, he made it very difficult for the boys to be together when he was the one minding them. There was always something that Peter needed one to do and the other to do somewhere else, always separate tasks, separate favours, in separate places. Even if one refused, the other would agree and leave the first behind, so Peter won either way. And last night, Peter had lain beside Tarrant Potter as the boy slept, whispering in his ear about Lord Voldemort and the Death Eaters and how one day, He would rise again, claim Tarrant as his own and kill the Boy-Who-Lived. While awake, Tarrant would never have listened to such talk, because it was a threat against his brother, his Harry, but in his sleep, at the sound of his godfather’s voice, Tarrant had smiled.
Peter had slipped out early that morning, unnoticed, because he hadn’t actually been one of those invited to stay and he didn’t want Lily getting suspicious of him again. Not like the year before after the incident where Harry had nearly drowned as Peter ‘taught’ him to swim. Tarrant had taken to water like a fish, but Harry wasn’t as fortunate. It took the life guard five minutes of Muggle CPR (which was unfortunate for Peter because he was sure the life guard had left the room) to get him breathing again, and while James thought Harry had just been traumatised and hallucinating, Lily believed her son when he said someone had held him under water. Tarrant had waved sadly at him from the front door as Peter disappeared, knowing, but not knowing why, that Peter’s escape from the Manor was somehow Harry’s fault.
Tarrant’s only friend, bar his brother, had left but Harry’s friends got to stay: Harry’s godfather and Harry’s best friend. Tarrant played with them because Harry was all he had and all he needed, as long as they were together and the same everything would be ok. He would be happy, without fame and fortune and friends; just as long as Harry was just like him.
Equal. Like Mr Dumbledore had promised.
And while the boys played, and Peter plotted, Lucius and James talked softly to one another standing by the window of the small study on the ground floor. Lucius wasn’t sure how his Lord would take the news of the betrothal upon his resurrection (because it would eventually happen, and he would eventually realize he was wrong: Harry proudly showing off Lord Voldemort’s bloodstone to Draco was fuel enough for Lucius’ belief), but matters were being placed into his hands now and Lucius would accept full responsibility and blame along with the Dark Lord’s wrath.
“Why are you including a clause?” James asked curiously, waving the rolled up sheet of parchment that he had been holding for the past half hour. He was referring, of course, to the option of annulling the contract if either of the boys ever well in love before the marriage date. “It’s very unusual, isn’t it? To include one in a Pureblood betrothal contract.”
“It is,” Lucius agreed, “but it is also unusual to promise an heir to another boy, particularly if he is not an heir too.”
“And if Harry was still the heir? Would that make a difference Lucius?” James glanced curiously over at him, wondering silently why Lucius would risk engaging his son to another boy, even the Boy-Who-Lived. Especially as he was rumoured to be a Death Eater, and he was running the risk that the Malfoy family ended up with no heir. James had Tarrant should Harry wish to marry a man, but Lucius only had Draco, and he doubted the Malfoys were the type of family who believed in adoption.
He couldn’t know, of course, that Lucius and Severus had spent the best part of three months trying their best to prove that Tarrant Potter couldn’t be Voldemort’s mate. As the mate of a magical creature, it was preferable that Harry remain a virgin. Peter would ensure that Tarrant remained untainted, because he was of the opinion that his godson was the right twin, but if he was wrong, and he was wrong, there was no one to protect Harry’s virtue but Severus and Lucius. There was nothing Severus could do about it, but Lucius by engaging the boy to his son, through a traditional betrothal contract, ensured that Harry, as the ‘woman’ in the relationship (he would be nothing but in regards to Voldemort, so he may as well get used to the prospect young) couldn’t engage in any kind of sexual behaviour. Kissing was acceptable, but that was literally the extent of it. Draco could do as he liked, because once the Dark Lord returned, Lucius already had a girl in mind for his son’s future wife, and again, she would be the one who needed to remain pure, not Draco. But this, as intolerable as it might be in Voldemort’s mind, would keep his mate off limits to anyone else, to everyone else. When He returned, He could claim Harry for himself, and Lucius, not Peter, would be His favourite once again.
“What if he falls in love, James? What if my son does? With a woman, or another man, or one of them ends up the mate of a Veela or some such? Do you want to see him forced into a marriage he doesn’t wish to engage in?” Lucius raised a fine blonde eyebrow, watching James think it over. The Malfoys had nothing against forcing their sons into unhappy marriages, and Draco had come to accept the possibility from the time he was six, just as Lucius had, and Abraxas before him. But the Potters had never truly engaged in the tradition. James’ uncle had, but his father had married a Black for love, just as James had married Lily because he loved her.
“No, I suppose you’re right. Never much cared for the tradition myself, but they do seem rather close.” James glanced back out of the window, just in time for Harry to reach out and grab Draco’s hand in his. “Still think Draco should be the spouse though.” It was muttered lowly, almost missed by Lucius if not for the fact that the blonde was watching James’ mouth as he spoke.
Pink lips twitched in amusement, imagining Lord Voldemort as the spouse of any husband before he shook the thought away. “No,” Lucius whispered back, “Harry will be the spouse, and Draco the husband, unless either falls in love before their eighteenth birthday.” Eighteen, Lucius thought: ten more years for the Dark Lord to rise and claim what was rightfully his. If it took Him longer than that, well, Lucius would need to revise his plan a little.
XXX
“Is it like another birthday present?” Harry asked, that night at dinner, as James told him he had a surprise.
“No, love,” James said with a grin. He pushed the parchment across the table, across Tarrant who sat at his left and over to Harry on Tarrant’s other side.
Lily sat to his right as his spouse, and Tarrant to his left as the Heir. Regardless that Harry as the eldest would one day be Lord Potter, Tarrant would, in their attempt at fairness, inherit the majority of the Potter fortune and properties. Harry would however keep the Potter seat on the Hogwarts board of Governors and in the Wizengamot, and deal with the general running of his brother’s future estates. It was something else that Lucius had pointed out when arguing that Harry could never be the husband: his family had put aside what amounted to a dowry for him, and despite being in line for all of Sirius’ and Severus’ worldly belongings, the Potters were leaving him, not all that he was entitled to but, enough to attract a husband and a comfortable life. Harry didn’t mind, because strangers gave him money every day while Tarrant got nothing, but it did rather make him seem like a girl, which Draco took great amusement in lately, kissing his hand now instead of letting Harry do the kissing.
“What is it?” Harry asked curiously, even as he unrolled the parchment.
James had called Lily into the study for a quick discussion before James had even contemplated signing the contract. Only the fact that Harry had ten years to choose his own partner before he had to marry swayed her to the idea. Normal betrothals run out on the sixteenth birthday and the couple would either marry or be disinherited. Lucius had been oddly generous in his terms, but of course, they didn’t know that his real reason for wanting to marry into the family was not actually marriage but to protect Harry from those he did not belong to.
“You’ll see, love,” Lily told him with a smile. She held her hand out across the table, still smiling. “Would you like me to read it for you?”
Harry’s eyes flicked over the words, understanding the basics of it all but getting caught on some of the longer, older words that he had never encountered before. “What’s betrothed mean?” He asked his mum, eyebrows furrowed.
Tarrant let out a small gasp beside him. Peter had talked about that, about him doing that with someone else. Peter had told him how he would belong to someone important one day and he must act like he was betrothed and never let anyone else touch him except his parents and brother, and while Tarrant thought it meant hugging, it still kept him from climbing into Remus’ lap at story time the way he had used to as a child.
“Means no one’s ‘lowed to touch you,” Tarrant muttered, ducking his head down to avoid his parents’ surprised looks. He was clever, they had known that, but they still hadn’t expected him to know anything about a formal engagement.
“It means one day, when you’re older, and if you want to, you’re going to marry Draco. Would that be ok, sweetheart? He’s your friend, right, and he makes you happy? Doesn’t he?”
Harry glanced at his mother, his eyebrows drawn down and his eyes narrowed as he thought about it. He considered Draco, who was pretty, and liked him and spoke to Tarrant because Harry said he had to instead of ignoring them both like Pansy Parkinson had. He wondered what it would be like to be married to Draco, because of course that meant sleeping in the same bed all the time, and his mum couldn’t do anything about it, she couldn’t make him go back to his own room when he was tired or even when he wasn’t and he could lie awake the way he used to with Tarrant and listen to Draco breathe at night. That was the selling point at the moment, to the eight-year-old it was all about things he had used to do, like share a bed with Tarrant, rather than things that actual married couples did like share a bed, because he was too young to understand the difference. So he agreed. And Tarrant disagreed.
Peter hadn’t been talking about Draco, but that was beside the point. Harry and he were supposed to be equal.
“I want to be betrothed to Draco too!” Tarrant wailed, crossing his arms over his chest angrily. “I want to marry him too!”
“Harry’s going to marry him,” James said.
“He might not, sweetheart,” his mum added softly, “he might change his mind when he’s older.”
“But if Harry gets to marry him, then so do I!” Tarrant was adamant. No matter what his parents said or which way they tried to explain it, nothing would stop Tarrant’s crying once he started but promising that somehow, someway, even marriage wouldn’t take him from Harry’s side. It wasn’t what Tarrant had been hoping for, but it was the best he was going to get for now.
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November 17th 1989.
There was never a quiet moment at the Burrow, and today was no exception. Molly had her children home schooled, because with as many as there were and with her unable to work, they couldn’t afford the tuition for the Little Institute for Little Wizards. Bill and Charlie had gone, before they started at Hogwarts, but after Molly’s brothers had been killed and she had had to quit work to mind them all of the time instead of on rotation amongst her family, the tuition had been one more unpaid bill in the pile of unpaid bills. Molly was more than capable of teaching her kids to read and write, but it did have the unfortunate side-effect of keeping her children isolated outside of their siblings, the Diggorys and the Lovegoods. Cedric was friends with Charlie being the Weasley closest to his own age, and Luna was a very odd little girl who preferred her own company, or Harry’s when he was around. Molly was, as a result, more than pleased that when her friend Lily came to visit she always brought her twin boys with her.
Ron had taken to Tarrant like no man’s business, despite the fact that Harry was the one with the faded lightning bolt scar and the reputation to accompany it. Ginny was in awe of them both, but mostly Harry, smiling and giggling whenever he was nearby, but it was the twins who were his actual friends. Percy though, Percy liked Tarrant, and on occasion he would actually talk at the dinner table, asking Tarrant questions about books he had read and stories Remus had told him that were Muggle and had never been heard at the Burrow before. A friend would be good for Percy, Molly and Lily both agreed, and for Tarrant too.
Bill and Charlie had their own friends at Hogwarts, but Percy didn’t really talk to anyone there either, and Fred and George had only started their first year and could use all of the friends they could get after pranking half of Hogwarts the month before. Since it was school time, only Ron and Ginny were home. Arthur was at work. Lily and Molly sat themselves at the kitchen table with a cup of tea each, happy enough to leave the children to play.
“Slytherins are evil, you know?” Ron told them, standing on the coffee table and trying to look and sound as important as Percy sometimes acted. It made him seem rude and pompous and Harry only rolled his eyes at his behaviour. “Everyone says that if you end up in Slytherin then you’re going to be a Dark wizard,” Ron told them.
“Or witch!” Ginny interrupted. The eight-year-old blushed heavily as all three boys turned to state at her.
“Or witch,” Ron added with a roll of his eyes, because Ginny would only go crying to their mum if he ignored her. “You-Know-Who was a Slytherin and he went bad, didn’t he! And dad says the Malfoys are just as bad!”
“Oi!” Tarrant interrupted, narrowing his eyes. “That’s our betrothed you’re talking about. Draco’s going to be in Slytherin and I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that!” His arms were crossed angrily over his chest, the way he usually stood when he was in a mood. Harry, on the other hand, adopted his usual pose: hands on hips, one foot tapping slowly, a scowl firmly in place as he ground his teeth.
Ron frowned at the use of ‘our’, before ignoring it and launching into a well-practised spiel about how Malfoy equalled evil. His dad had said it often enough about Lucius Malfoy and as his son Draco must be just as bad, and it was his duty as Tarrant’s friend to warn him about the evils of Harry’s fiancé.
Harry ignored the use of the plural as well, because he had long ago accepted that Tarrant would always want to share and that it was his duty as the eldest to allow that. Harry had to share, because it was only fair, and his parents had promised to treat them equally after all. Just because he would be sleeping with Draco when he was older didn’t mean he couldn’t lie beside Tarrant once in a while until his brother fell asleep. They had done it as children and they could do it when they were all grown up too, because once they were married his mum couldn’t stop them. They would all live in one big house, Potter Manor, Harry had decided because Lucius’ house elves never let them share rooms at Malfoy Manor, and they would all be together and married or share two separate beds, because apparently brothers weren’t supposed to sleep together according to Sirius, who had laughed loudly as he explained. But Tarrant had always let Harry into his bed and his mum hadn’t cared until they started school and Harry got into fights about it with some of the crueller children he had encountered. It was only stopped to protect Tarrant from being bullied, so Harry didn’t see why it would matter once they were adults and Tarrant could defend himself with magic. He had it all worked out in his head, innocent and naive and honourable, but of course they both couldn’t marry Draco and they certainly couldn’t marry each other, and if Lucius and Peter had anything to do about it one of them would be marrying Lord Voldemort in the end regardless.
But Harry didn’t know that, so he defended his brother and his fiancé and insisted that, “there is nothing wrong with being a Slytherin! I’m going to be a Slytherin with Draco and we’re going to be brilliant, all of us, right Tarrant?”
“Don’t be silly, Harry,” the younger boy exclaimed. He brushed his dark hair out of his dark green eyes and laughed softly; the way children do when they’re trying to sound cool. “We’re going to be in Gryffindor together. And then we’ll be together all of the time, like dad and Peter were in school, brothers, all of the time. Right Harry?”
Harry thought about it, forehead creasing lightly as he tried to work it out in his head. In the end, it was all the same. If one was a Slytherin and the other was a Gryffindor, Harry couldn’t go to both houses! So it was his brother or his fiancé, and if it couldn’t be Slytherin because Tarrant didn’t want to go there, then there was only one choice left.
“Right!” Harry agreed his emerald eyes wide and his black hair falling over his face. He brushed it back off of his forehead, consequentially showing Ron the thin white scar that he could only see because he knew where to look for it, and said, “Together forever!”
Tarrant turned to Ron with a smug smile, his arms remaining crossed for a moment longer before he unfolded them and reached out to link hands with his brother. Harry squeezed his hand tightly, pale fingers entwined. Tarrant wasn’t going to marry whoever Peter kept telling him about, and Harry wasn’t going to marry Draco either, because if Gryffindors hated Slytherins then the opposite must be true. Harry was going to be a Gryffindor with him, and Draco would hate him, and their mother had promised that if Harry didn’t love Draco they wouldn’t have to get married. It was only fair then that Harry should love him instead. He was all Harry should need, because Harry was all he had.
XXX
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Yes, Tarrant is a clingy fucker but I actually know twins like this. One is fine having a good time alone, and the other only starts arguments because they’re spending time apart. But no one can be together with someone all of the time! Tarrant will… change soon… see if you can guess why? It’ll be in the next chapter anyway, along with (drum roll) DUDLEY!
Thank you all for reading. Let me know what you think. And if any of you do requests? I would like a Sephiroth/Harry xover for xmas, even one chapter would make my year! :P
Words: 7,437
Chapter 6
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